


I like your messy hair

by taonsils (mirokkuma)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/F, Single Parent AU, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4875295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirokkuma/pseuds/taonsils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look,” he sighs, “If she’s seen you with no makeup and that nest in your hair and she’s still being nice you’re probably in with a good chance.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I like your messy hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tartejetaime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tartejetaime/gifts).



> asjfhk quick present written under the table at work for cat, the disgruntled tao to my awful lame dad jm, who has put up with many terrible puns this week. That vague au idea we discussed one night where single mama tao falls for makeup counter girl junhee and probably no one is cis.  
> (cat I hope it’s not weird I just borrowed boxuan for this but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise by asking about names /__\ (I hope you know how much I would need to love you to willingly write kidfic)

Up this close, Junhee is less intimidating and a lot softer — softer voice, softer features, such soft, silky hair. It’s not like Zitao wasn’t already completely enamoured with her before now, but Junhee _this_ close— all she’s doing is dividing Zitao’s hair to pin back in sections, but Zitao is making a conscious effort to sit up straight and not squirm.

It also makes Zitao feel more aware than she already was that running a comb through her hair this morning is all the attention it’s had, and that her mascara is tacky and from the tube with the reduction label wrapped around it. That’s a less happy thought; Junhee just gets more perfect up-close while she gets considerably less so.

Junhee doesn’t seem bothered in the least by Zitao’s untamed hair, though. Zitao’s seen how she sometimes smiles with all her teeth, but right now it’s small and sweet. It makes her blushed cheeks round, and Zitao finds she’s wringing her hands in her lap. “So what are we trying out today?”

Oh, right. She’s here for a reason. Zitao read up on this before attempting to approach Junhee for more than testers (because ok, maybe she has treated herself to a few more extravagances than she normally would since the new pretty makeup counter lady returned her unsubtle staring. The treat is more in Junhee’s gentle hands holding her own; that she always spends far longer than necessary detailing whatever Zitao is feigning interest in, and that Zitao feels warm inside just from listening to her talk. She remembers details of their passing conversations from week to week, always asks how Zitao is, and the little frowns and touches to Zitao’s arm if she sighs feels a little beyond patter).

You’re supposed to buy products equal to the cost of the service. But much as Zitao would love to drag this out, she has her baby Boxuan to think of. Her patient, sensible baby who likes the pretty makeup lady too, but rightly scolds her mama for some of the horrible things she’s been having sold to her. 

“Primers?” Zitao suggests weakly. She doesn’t have any, so it might come in useful. Or she could try and sell it off — the eye shadow palette went to a new home for almost its full price. Of course she’d had to fall entirely in love with the most expensive counter’s lady.

Junhee nods. If she can tell Zitao’s definitely not here because of an actual interest in primers she’s graciously ignorant to it. Or perhaps not entirely. “I’d been hoping to get my hands on you properly one day,” Junhee says with her back turned to look for her testers, so Zitao can’t see exactly what expression she’s making. She innocuously continues about Zitao’s cheekbones and eyes and proportions, what a pleasure she’d be for _any_ makeup artist, and that’s cool. That’s nice, but it’s this makeup artist Zitao cares about, and she feels unsteady in the chair all over again.

Zitao would swear that was a comment loaded with intent, but she’s hardly in a position to protest. She probably should have thought this through a little better — Junhee testing dots of foundation and smears of lipstick on the back of her hand is a very different experience to Junhee gently angling Zitao’s face with fingertips at her jaw. Especially now she suspects that Junhee’s smile is as much amusement as it is professional.

Rude, in Zitao’s opinion, to _know_ how helpless someone is and just leave them to squirm.

“I seem to see you all the time since I started here,” Junhee comments as she dots primer onto the back of her hand, and that pretty much confirms Zitao’s suspicions. She doesn’t sound unhappy about it, at least, so maybe Zitao doesn’t need to snatch up her bag and run just yet.

“Yeah— Yes, I like the brand. I always, yeah.” Zitao stares down at her hands as she squeezes her fingers tightly together. This is kind of horrible. Zitao’s never been so shy around someone, and it’s making it so hard to know what to do with the time she’s (literally) buying. “It’s nice to, sometimes, like,” she continues, “It’s just me and Boxuan.” Subtle. “So it’s nice to just do things for me once in a while?” Like hopeless non-flirting. Out of all of Boxuan’s self-appointed uncles, Sehun is the best for offering to take her to another part of the store to give Zitao a better chance.

“She must keep you busy,” Junhee offers, a little distant as she tilts Zitao’s chin and considers her work. Somewhat thankfully Junhee needs her to stop talking now, but Zitao could guarantee she can feel the heat along her cheekbones. “My brother has one a little younger than yours. I don’t think they’ve slept for the last three years..”

Zitao’s supposed to not be speaking, so she just flutters her lashes up at Junhee. Maybe she’ll do better at looking appealing than trying to talk.

Junhee’s skin isn’t perfect to see this close up — not as flawless as it could be for someone wearing the brand she is and with her expertise. It’s been longer than Zitao needs think of that she’s worn foundation thick above her lip and around her jaw, but it doesn’t look the same for Junhee. She’s so starkly pale that the shadows and raised skin stand out all the more. And oh. Zitao had made a passing comment to Sehun the first time she’d heard Junhee talk, but Sehun reminded her how unlikely that would be. Girls are all different, but I’ve never met another one like you.

Zitao’s been curious before now, working on some kind of intuitive feeling, but this is the first time they’ve been close enough for her to be sure. She tries to keep her eyes closed rather than sneaking peeks at Junhee’s throat, but it’s all that’s on her mind now. Her heart is pounding so hard. Well, it already kind of was before now. Zitao doesn’t like this being flustered thing at all.

Maybe it’s an obvious kind of tension that sets in; if Zitao has figured out that she’s not the only girl here that doesn’t match up to their birth certificate, she wouldn’t be surprised if Junhee had done the same weeks sooner. Zitao is so tall, after all. Bigger hands and a stronger jaw than Junhee, and lifting Boxuan has seen to her muscle not softening away. Either way Junhee seems to slow a little, wordlessly meeting the unsubtle glances from beneath Zitao’s lashes and just blinking in slow consideration in return.

Now Zitao has two things on her mind that she doesn’t know how to say. _I’ve never met anyone like you before_ would probably suffice for both.

“Are you all right?” Junhee asks when the primer on her hand has run out, giving her an opportunity to draw back. It’s a lot softer than _we both know why you’re staring_ , but the intent in her tone seems the same.

If she’s annoyed, Zitao would maybe have to buy a litre of ice cream on the way home, but she’d entirely understand. It’d save her a lot of money, if she couldn’t come back. “Yes— Sorry.”

Junhee doesn’t look annoyed. Maybe she did already know — understands that Zitao is warm and wide-eyed because this is unexpectedly familiar ground. Zitao’s hardly well practised at subtlety, either — if Junhee’s known this has all been a sad attempt at making conversation, too, then.. well, she’s very obliging. Zitao wouldn’t like to hope it means there’s reciprocation, but her heels are restlessly tapping at the foot bar, because she kind of can’t help that she does.

“Some people find being this close uncomfortable after a while,” Junhee shrugs when Zitao doesn’t elaborate further. That’s not the case here, they both know. She was about to start on the next section of Zitao’s skin, but— right, she ran out of primer. The grips in Zitao’s hair have slipped a little, so with her hands currently clean and dry Junhee reaches to fix that. It’s gentle and far, far too intimate for Zitao’s poor heart to take, how Junhee tucks Zitao’s hair behind her ear and the little comb through of her fingers to keep it in place. Zitao’s about ready to slide right out of the chair, but a loud, high little voice approaching stops her from entirely melting.

“I think that’s yours,” Junhee says warmly, looking over Zitao’s shoulder. The man stooping to hold her hand isn’t familiar, but Zitao’s daughter is easy to recognise after how many times Junhee’s been aware of her patiently waiting for her mama, barely able to see over the counter. Baby Boxuan seems keen on her mama having treats, too, and for that Junhee’s pretty sure it earns one in return.

Sehun approaches Zitao with his arms folded over his chest, pre-emptively judging the fact it looks like she’s made no progress at all. Zitao pouts, but it’s never very effective on him; It used to be, but Sehun has known her for long enough to develop immunity. Unfortunate, considering how frequently she has to try and get around him. Sehun glances back to see that Boxuan and Junhee are keeping each other busy at the window display in the counter, more at Boxuan’s height, before leaning in close. 

“How’s the flirting going?”

“Don’t.” Zitao brings both hands to her mouth, covering her lips with her bare nails. Sehun looks unimpressed with this uncharacteristic lack of confidence, and giving him a worried, wide-eyed flutter of her lashes does nothing to lift it. “I don’t know what to say to her, Huna. She’s so— and I’m, it’s? I keep trying, but?” She’s not exactly asking Sehun of all people for advice. She definitely wouldn’t be if he wasn’t literally the only option right now.

Like, she’s totally entitled to date, but it’s been a long, long time. Zitao isn’t quite the same Zitao she was when she used to find dating so easy, and even that aside it’s hard remembering how to do much of anything without Boxuan close to the front of her mind. Confusing or hurting her with a bad decision is the absolute last thing Zitao wants. So, well, maybe she doesn’t feel _totally_ entitled to date. Boxuan was much younger back then; she cried more than Zitao when it was just the two of them again.

“You’re worrying again,” Sehun says when he sees Zitao’s brow starting to wrinkle. “You’re not gonna get anywhere making a face like that at her. Bobo already likes her. You just have to say nice stuff.”

“Stuff.” Amazing. Zitao pulls at the tips of her hair.

“What do you think I know about flirting with girls?” Sehun huffs. “Just like, tell her she’s pretty and you can’t afford coffee after buying all this makeup you don’t need, but if you could you’d totally invite her for some.” That seems like pretty reasonable advice, in his inexperienced opinion, but Zitao’s pout is drawing into something sharper. “Look,” he sighs, “If she’s seen you with no makeup and that nest in your hair and she’s still being nice you’re probably in with a good chance.”

“ _Huna_.”

Sehun shrugs, less bothered than he could be that the love of Zitao’s life is going to think she’s an idiot, or not interested, or only here to stare. Or all three. “I only offered to babysit. What more do you want me to do?”

“Go away?” Zitao suggests. She unhooks the toe of a shoe from the foot bar to extend a leg towards him in warning.

Sehun allows himself to be shooed away after wrangling a deal involving puppy-sitting when he has a date out of it. He was useful for making Zitao feel more composed once he’s gone again, at least. And Zitao is totally composed, for the three seconds before she looks up. If she hadn’t already been halfway melted from all of Junhee’s attention so far, she would be at the sight of her crouched down with Boxuan’s little hands in her own.

“Baby,” Zitao calls softly, lowering a foot to the floor so she can lean down a little further. “I hope you’re not bothering the nice lady.” Because Zitao totally isn’t. Not at all.

Boxuan has her pout learned well from Zitao. “ _Mama_ , we’re talking.”

Junhee says something down at Boxuan’s height that Zitao can’t hear before straightening up, smoothing the hem of her skirt and reaching for Boxuan’s hand again. “She really wasn’t,” Junhee says as she guides Boxuan a step ahead of herself. “She was just asking about what we were doing.”

That doesn’t surprise Zitao in the least — Boxuan always likes to know what everyone is doing.

Their conversation continues without Zitao while Junhee is fully turned towards Boxuan. She fluffs her hair a little, says something that makes Boxuan palm her cheeks and tilt from side to side. Junhee easily lifts her up into the second stool, making sure she’s right back against the metal rungs, and Boxuan makes herself comfortable with her arms stretched up onto the rests before Junhee turns back to Zitao.

“Do you mind?” she asks, and her smile is that one with all the teeth. Zitao automatically shakes her head. “Oh—” Junhee absently feels at her own hair when she sees the clips in Zitao’s. “I’ll finish up with you first, of course.”

“No, no don’t worry about that.” Zitao gives her a little wave off, out of the stool and after the pack of wipes on the counter before Junhee can stop her. Half a makeover has to cost less than if she’d got it finished.

Boxuan is every bit as charming as her mama, and in current company a lot better at holding a conversation; she’s easily stolen Junhee’s attention away by the time Zitao’s face is clean. Watching them together is nice, though, and well, this is good. Zitao should probably cut back a bit on how often she indulges in visits, but she can live with it. Dating.. What was she doing thinking about dating, anyway.

–

Boxuan is delighted with her make over — a dusting of glitter over her eyelids, soft carmine cheeks, and rosy, shiny lips. She insists on holding Zitao’s big phone in her little hands and taking photo after photo before allowing herself to be scooped up off the stool. Most of the gloss is clumped in Zitao’s hair within moments of Boxuan being hoisted up to grip at her mama’s shoulders, but it’s a bath night anyway. “We have to pay the nice lady and say thank you,” Zitao tells Boxuan. Boxuan’s already dug her hand into Zitao’s open bag and is fishing out her purse.

“Thank you,” Boxuan says loud and clear, grasping at Zitao’s hair with one hand and offering the purse with the other.

Junhee’s hair does this cute swishy thing when she shakes her head. “No need.”

Boxuan frowns and waves the purse more insistently, until Zitao gently takes it out of her hand. “We’ve taken up a lot of your time..” And between Zitao’s half-make over, wipes, and Boxuan’s sparkles they’ve used up a little more than absolutely nothing in products.

Junhee shakes her head again, dismissing that, and.. yeah, that smile is definitely giving Zitao flushed cheeks again. Hopefully Boxuan won’t feel the need to point out that she’s incredibly warm suddenly. “You’ve been good for my commission over the last few weeks,” Junhee says. Junhee’s in flats and Zitao isn’t, and somehow the way she looks up at Zitao still makes her feel a little small. It’s not a bad thing at all. “Your friend said it meant you couldn’t afford to take me out, though. Next time I’d rather you did that than used up my testers.”

The smile with the teeth. And the crinkly eyes. Boxuan’s knees digging in at Zitao’s side as she squirms to get back down to the floor is all that reminds Zitao to watch her language.


End file.
